


Parenting Advice

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [24]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, woo hc's about Claude's insecurities being a parent woo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: A scraped knee; Dimitri was worried for a moment, but it was nothing too serious. Claude is worried as well - for different reasons
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561504
Comments: 30
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

He looked at Claude. Watched as his lover held his gaze on the two jewels of their lives, Gwendolyn and Javed. It was something Claude had grown the habit of doing, simply watching as their children played. In turn, Dimitri has picked up the habit of watching Claude, see the warm happiness on his face and feel that warmth spread to him.

Today was different. Or more, it became different.

Moments before it was all the same, the dream of children playing in peace. But then Javed tripped, and fell, and cried out.

Dimitri had shot up from his seat, but not nearly so fast as Claude, already bounding for the children before Dimitri could get his feet. Gwendolyn was worried, and Javed injured, though it was nothing serious upon inspection; simply a scraped knee. It was dealt with quickly, Claude giving it a Heal spell, a stern warning to be more careful, and the kids were back to playing as usual after a promise they made Claude swear to "teach them how to make their hands glow like that!". It relieved Dimitri, knowing everything was fine. 

But it was different for Claude. For a moment Dimitri saw a… look, overcome his lover. After worry came… confusion. Yes, he looked confused, though the look wasn't directed at the children. It was distant. It was the look he took on when he was soon to be lost in his thoughts. Dimitri had distracted Claude before it got too far, but he watches now how Claude is so clearly _trying_ to keep his focus on the children, fighting back the urge to wander in his mind.

Dimitri put a hand on Claude's shoulder. He jumped at the contact but soon relaxed, placed his own hand on top of Dimitri's.

In private. They will talk in private.

  


\---

  


"I love them, Dimitri."

It was the first thing Claude said, after they put the little ones to sleep, in their bedroom.

"I know," Dimitri replies, because it was true. Nothing was truer. Claude loved their children with such a fervor no one would dare try to deny it. 

"I got… _so_ worried when Javed got hurt."

He sounded so… he sounded as though he was saying something strange.

"It's only natural," Dimitri reassures. "It is the first time either of them have gotten hurt, even if it was a minor injury." Rambunctious that they can be they are usually more careful than today, though of course it would happen eventually-

"My parents never showed that kind of worry to me."

...oh.

_Oh._

Claude so rarely spoke of his family. Dimitri knew his parents yet lived, though Dimitri has never met them himself. He's heard talk of Claude's ascension to the throne being hard won against others vying for it, so he thinks it safe to assume there are siblings within the family. Other than that… he knew nothing.

From how tense Claude is, how lost he looks, Dimitri also thinks he knows the reason for Claude's stalled tongue on the matter.

"Truly?" Dimitri knew he would not like the answer.

"I… I know they love me," Claude starts, already defensive. "I _get_ that. They wanted me to be independent, so they were… hands off. They loved me and wanted me to be strong. I… I love Gwen and Javed, and I want _them_ to grow up strong too, I just…"

He looked to Dimitri. He looked so… _lost._

"Am I doing this whole parenting thing wrong, Dimitri? I, uh…" and he blinked hard and shook his head and slipped on a horribly fake smile, his gaze off of Dimitri and onto the wall, "I might be overthinking this, haha. Ignore what I just said, I'll just figure it out-"

_No._

Dimitri gently took hold of Claude's chin and drew his gaze back onto him. Green eyes stared wide into his one. "You are a wonderful parent, Claude. I could not ask you to do better than you are doing now."

A pause, before another awkward chuckle left Claude. "You sure sound sure. Can you tell me your secret in having so much confidence in me?"

The answer was easy. "I watch how you look upon our children with such adoration. I see how they look upon _you_ and know that they are safe, and love you in return."

He watched Claude swallow. "Haha, yeah… it's just, my parents would trust that I could handle things myself, you know? I just don't want to have them unprepared."

Worrying over your children is not _distrusting_ them. Healing them and consoling them when they get hurt is not… what, spoiling?Pampering? What wrong has been done? He so desperately wanted to say this to his love… but he knew better. At least right now. He will, when the time calls for it, when Claude can better take those words.

As for now, he says, "You offered to teach them some Faith healing, did you not? That will certainly prepare them for many unfortunate events to come. And I know that mind of yours, Claude - I would bet that teaching would also include more medicinal healings means as well."

And that brought a sliver of relaxation to taut shoulders. Less than Dimitri liked, more than what he expected. "Ha, you'd have won yourself a nice set of coins for that wager," he says, and it sounds far more real than the last attempt of lightheartedness.

He put his other hand on Claude's shoulder. "My love," and Claude's face turns that slight shade of red, still unused to being referred to as such even years later, "you and your parents…" he thought of how to put it without his anger clouding his meaning. After a moment, he goes on, "...are not the same. You may wish for the same goal for your children, but that is not to say you must follow their footsteps so diligently."

He pulled Claude into an embrace, holding him close, and whispered, "Please, do not doubt yourself so. You are doing so well."

A moment, in silence, neither moving. Another, before Claude slowly, tentatively wrapped his arms around Dimitri. Another, before Dimitri felt Claude's body release that little bit more tension. Another, before Claude spoke:

"Okay."

He did not sound fully convinced, doubt still creeping into his voice, shaking it _just_ that much… but he did not sound fully dejected either, ending with a budding strength, a sapling ready to grow into a mighty oak should care be given to it.

One day he hopes to hear just how Claude was raised, that him showing care to his children filled him with such crippling thoughts of inadequacy. He knew he would likely grow angry, should that day come, for he could not think of how he could think kindly of those who have treated his beloved in such a way. But he so wanted to help Claude, and he can not do that living in ignorance, no matter how much he loathed the thought of _knowing._

Tonight, Dimitri keeps Claude close, pulling him down to lay on their bed for slumber, combing his hand through his soft brown locks and professing his love for him. If he can do nothing else, he will make sure Claude will have his rest knowing he is loved, and that he will wake knowing the same.

For now, it was all he could do. 


	2. Chapter 2

So Claude was a little… conflicted.

Yes, sure, fine, his parents could have been there for him a little more. He'll admit he wished they were. But… they weren't _bad_ parents. Yeah, Claude will admit, he has some trust issues, but what could his parents have done about that? They didn't protect him from people set to hurt him, yes, but he can't expect them to come to his rescue, just scoop him up in their arms, _every_ time he was in some danger. Nevermind the impracticality of that, how else would he learn how to take care of himself? They knew he could handle it, and he did. And now he can handle himself in most situations.

So. They were good parents. Flawed, maybe, but they were good.

So… so why can't he bring himself to treat his own children the same way?

What's the issue? He wants them to grow strong and independent, just like his parents did him. The way his parents raised him was… controversial. Maybe. But… it was fine. He was fine. Flawed, but fine. His parents couldn't be perfect, so mistakes are expected. So they didn't want to coddle him. Okay, is that wrong?

But he saw his child hurt and he couldn't _stop_ himself from rushing to them. The thought didn't even enter his mind to _not_ do that.

He… his… his parents definitely felt the same. They felt that urge to protect him from harm. Of _course_ they did, _duh._ They were just able to… suppress it. For his own good. They were even able to dish some punishment whenever he was bad. He chuckled to himself, remembering the horse incident, how **Gwen was dragged around the riding range, curled up in a ball as best she could, bouncing off the dirt as the horse neighs and he laughs at the ridiculous sight-**

Claude bit his lip. Clenched his hands into fists.

He felt sick.

 _Gods_ , if either of them were…

But… but he _actually_ had it coming. It _was_ funny. Plus it wasn't like the horse was full gallop or anything, _duh_. He came out bruised and aching for a few… uh, a few weeks, but his parents knew there'd be nothing _permanent._ Plus, Claude's so good with horses now! He wasn't even scared of them, so really, was it _that_ bad? 

Gwen and Javed would never do something to earn that, unlike him. So yeah, he'd feel sick at the thought, because he knew _he'd_ be wrong doing it. He… sure, he couldn't think of anything Gwen or Javed could do _to_ earn that. But…

But… he… he could…

He swallowed.

Okay, maybe he couldn't.

"Claude?"

He jumped. His eyes focused; it was morning. Dimitri, his light, was groggily waking up.

"Morning, Your Sleepiness," he says, a smile creeping on his face. Oh, Dimitri. He's faced so many problems and has come out on top of most of them. He struggles some days, but Claude will always be willing to help him push past them.

…He's so good with the kids. It… it looks so _easy_ watching Dimitri. He's a natural. And he already told Claude last night that he was doing good too, he didn't have to be like his parents to be good, and he wants to believe him _so badly_. 

But… if his parents weren't bad and he wanted his kids to grow to be independent and his parents raised him with the same goal in mind, then why _shouldn't_ he raise Gwen and Javed the same way? 

His parents are such good people. He loves them. 

So why... why did the thought of raising his kids like his parents did him make him so... _sick_? And it's not even like he does _nothing_ the same; he reads them stories to go to sleep to, just like his father did for him. Is it... is he weak? Can't make himself do what _needs_ to be done for his kids? They still rely so much on him and Dimitri... if he was doing it right, then they'd have begun to stop that, right?

"Do you think Gwen and Javed will grow up okay? They still come to us for help so often. I'll always help them of course, I just…"

The drowsiness in Dimitri's eye fades as soon as Claude asks the question. He's alert, and concern quickly washes over his features.

"Claude, they are eight and seven."

 _Yes, exactly_. By then Claude had stopped thinking his parents would rush to his side. He walked off his wounds and studied potion making to heal _himself_. He can even kinda remember the look of _pride_ that slipped on his mother's face when she walked into his room and saw all of the botany books scattered around. 

_"Good_ ," was what she said, and Claude remembers feeling so happy. That was the first time either of his parents had congratulated him on something, and was still one of the few times that's ever happened. He… he can't say he's done the same. He tells Gwen and Javed they do well all the time. A cute little drawing of the family they worked together on, even though it was technically horrible, he loves to death and told them it was great. It's on the wall of his and Dimitri's bedroom; if he turned his head to the right he could even see it now, two pale skinned figures, one ridiculously tall and "buff" and one shorter and wearing a blue skirt, two brown figures, one with his signature wink and the other with a tiny braid - which he only knew was a braid after they told him what it was - and two bigger creatures, a darker brown and some peachy color, that Claude _correctly_ guessed as he beloved wyverns. They obviously worked really hard on it. They looked… they looked so _happy_ when Claude and Dimitri praised them. 

But…

He felt a hand grip his own.

"Claude…"

"I'm not ruining them, am I?"

It came out without him thinking, the abruptness and blunt wording shocking him - and Dimitri, given his wide-eyed stare at the question - but… yeah. Yeah, that's what he's worried about. What will Gwen and Javed do when they're adults and Claude and Dimitri aren't there to help them, for whatever reason? Will they be ready to face whatever would come to them?

The hand on his tightened its grip, slightly. Another came to cup his face.

"Claude…" Dimitri stopped, taking a second, Claude could only guess, to collect his thoughts, before he kept going, "would you say we've achieved our dream?"

…

"...what?"

"We've mostly recovered in Fodlan, and we've nearly amended the rift between Fodlan and Almyra. We may still have our struggles, but wouldn't you say we've won peace?"

"...Yes? But what does that have to do with…?"

"Don't our children deserve to live in that peace?"

...ah. 

Ah, that… oh. That hit him. _Hard_. 

"We still train with Gwendolyn and Javed so that they know how to defend themselves. We make lessons when we can out of the little things - like you when you will teach them healing," he brings up again, and again Claude feels that little bit better, because he knows that _that_ was a good call, at least, "but they ought to be able to be _children_. You were…" another pause to think, "...you were raised as… as your parents felt was best, I assume. Are you not doing the same? You are teaching them as they need to, but are also allowing them to live in the peace they rightfully deserve to live in. That is not wrong, Claude."

…He… he felt…

…

It was because he just woke up. That, and he woke up with these thoughts bombarding his head. So… so it makes sense he isn't quite fit to handle his feelings the way he usually can. He can lean into Dimitri and just… just…

Yeah.

A part of him thinks of the chance Dimitri would change his mind if Claude told him how he was raised. Dimitri would understand why Claude feels like he does; hell, he might even agree, once he knows. The thought scares him… a lot, really, but he knew it was only fair to tell Dimitri.

He will. One day. But not today. Not now. Right now, he just… stays with him.

For now, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly happier ending, this time in Claude's POV ;w;


	3. Chapter 3

Claude can handle things by himself. Sometimes a line of thought can reach out for... a while, admittedly. He won't deny that. But that isn't to say that he can't eventually snap it off, if it gets too long.

This, though... it was getting out of hand.

He just couldn't stop thinking about it. Dimitri kept telling him over and over not to worry about it, that he was doing good, the kids will grow up fine. But... what if? What if they wouldn't? What if when they grow up they can't do anything for themsleves? The thought of his children being in danger because he didn't teach them to be able to take care of themselves scared Claude like nothing else. He didn't want them to run head first into something thinking they're invulnerable.

He tries to balance it as best he could, tie in lessons in playtime without drilling paranoia in their skulls. Dimitri was right; they _did_ deserve to enjoy peace. They had every right to be allowed to just be kids and not worry about someone threatening their lives. They did. He really did believe that.

But sometimes he goes to sleep and sees Javed being choked by someone so much bigger than him, not knowing where to strike to get them off, not having a knife or dagger or something on him, because he didn't think he needed it. He sees Gwen choking on her food because she didn't check for poison, scratching at her throat, not having some kind of antidote on her, because she didn't think she needed to. Claude needed to teach them that they _do_ need a weapon on them, they _always_ have to check for poison, or at least be ready for the possibility. But that would take their innocence away. They're so young, they deserve to think their parents will protect them. But he _would_ be protecting them if he taught them, like his parents did him at their age, if he was a _little_ harsher on them, held back _just a little_ , but they look so _happy_ now, but they can't be happy if they're _dead-_ he has to get up, he has to check on them, he has to see if they're okay, he's in their room checking their breathing and pulse-

And they'd be fine. Everytime.

Months. His mind has been like this for months. He was so confused as to _why,_ though. Eight years he and Dimitri have been parents and he's been fine. He didn't spiral so much in his thoughts. But otherwise, though... he had his couple of... slip ups, in front of Dimitri. He let out his fears and Dimitri understood and it... it was supposed to be fine. He kept his nightmares - which didn't even happen that often, really - to himself. He isn't going to ruin the nice family they had anymore than he's already done with Dimitri. He thought he was doing okay; other than the occasional small thing that would... worry him, that their kids did, it was all good. Nothing that he couldn't immediately calm down from.

Until the gifts from Count Gloucester came in for them.

The man was shady. Claude was more than certain, beyond his usual trepidation, that the man had sent assassins after him during the war. It wouldn't have been the first time the man was involved in the death of a Riegan, after all. Lorenz tries to tell him that his father is better than that now but who's to say Lorenz was right? 

Claude hadn't even thought of Gloucester in years, his position as king of Almyra a nice shield from most Fodlan nobles wary of a war with the neighboring country. But then his kids, his beloved lights, came running up to him and Dimitri, holding up some pretty, signature red roses.

Claude froze.

Dimitri went to them, smiling, saying how pretty the flowers look. Gwen was bouncing up and down, putting her flower in her hair. Javed tried to tangle his in his braid.

Claude left.

He was- it- his heart was pounding. He felt- off. A dam brimming with water- that was- that was his head. He needed to be alone. Just- just for a bit. He just needed a bit of time alone.

He went in his and Dimtiri's bedroom. Shut the door. Went on the bed. Breathed in. Breathed out.

_They could have died_

No, they're fine. They're fine. Breathe in. Breathe out.

_They were reckless_

It's fine. Breathe in-

_Didn't teach them enough_

Breathe- breathe out. It's-

_They'll die because of me._

"Claude? Are you alright-"

" _They just- they just opened it Dimitri! What if it was rigged?_ What if the flowers were coated in poison? Who delivered the roses?! Was it someone one of Gloucester's men?! How did they get in- did they just _let someone in?!_ They could've- they could've died, I knew it, I knew I wasn't doing good enough I- _I-"_

His head is flooding. Drowning, no purchase, he can't- _can't-_

"Claude, it's alright."

Dimitri's voice. Above him. Something - fingers? - combing through his hair. He looks up- Dimitri's so close. When had he-?

"Hilda came over to deliver the roses. She opened the packages for them and picked up the roses herself."

He's held closer. He feels a hot breath. On the top of his head.

"They were fine, Claude. They were safe."

...

...ah...

...

"...good... that's... good..."

Dammit... he was... he was calming down. He still felt... off... but it was slowly fading. His heart isn't pounding as hard. His head isn't as murky. But now... now he was... tired. He hated this. This wasn't the first time Dimtiri's caught him like... this. But that didn't mean Claude was warm to the idea of it happening. But this... he just... couldn't help it.

Maybe...

"Claude... get your rest. I would like for you to come to me when you wake. If you are fine with that."

He nodded. Let himself be led back to their bed.

Maybe... maybe it was time to deal with this. Actually get... help. He thinks Dimitri thinks the same.

\---

If it weren't for multiple people insisting it was true, he never would have believed Manuea to be the best person to come to with personal problems. She didn't exactly have the best record for dealing with those kinds of things when it came to herself, in his defense. But the assurance from Dimitri and others helped convince Claude to come to her.

It was something decided shortly after his... rest. Dimitri had waited until he was sure he was clear-headed enough to ask if he could set up the meeting. It was... hard. Claude's always prided himself in being able to deal with himself _by_ himself. That was changing with Dimitri, but... Dimitri was Dimitri. He wasn't someone Claude has barely talked to in, what, ten years now? Since the war's ended, definitely.

But he needed this. He could see that much. If something as small as seeing his children play with some flowers was enough to send him into a fit like that then he's slipping too much for his or his kids' own goods. Maybe a set of eyes from the outside can help him see just what his deal is recently.

The room was cozy; warm fireplace, a few wooden tables, a few comfy looking chairs - one of which Manuela sat in, her head perking up when they walked in. She was the sort of person who still cared for herself even into her older years, a few gray hairs and a few wrinkles near her eyes the only indicator that time's touched her any. 

She smiled at the sight of them. "Long time no see, boys! It's so good to see you."

He returned the smile, and he saw Dimitri nod. "Good to see you're still kicking too, Manuela," he greets, and he does mean it. He ought to keep in touch with her more; she was a nice enough professor, before the war. Funny as hell, at the very least.

"I agree," Dimitri says. "It's wonderful that you're doing well."

"Well, won't you two make me blush!" She laughs, and they laugh too, letting the long time they haven't seen each other be put to the side. She presents the chairs with a wave of her hand. "Don't just stand there, sit! You have to tell your old professor how things have been."

And they do. They spend some time talking about how they've spent their time after the war, making peace talks and negotiations seem more interesting than the bore fest they were for the sake of interest, reminiscing about how it only seemed like yesterday he and Dimitri were getting married, and now they were parents to two lovely little children-

"They sound absolutely adorable! But having children is known to be a handful; are you two taking to being parents well?"

-and. Well. The reason they came to Manuela made itself clear.

It was a smooth transition, Claude will give Manuela that. A shift here, a slight drop in her tone - they were the only things that betrayed her worry.

Claude chuckled half-heartedly. "Well, it was pretty smooth sailing up until recently. I've been, ah, having some doubts that are getting to me."

He saw Dimitri look at him out of the corner of his eye. He was quiet.

"Only recently?" Manuela straightened up some at the words. "Has anything happened?"

Claude shook his head. "Nothing big, really."

"It doesn't have to be a big thing to be meaningful," Manuela says. "Can you remember about when you've started having these doubts?"

Oh, like it would leave his head anytime soon. "You won't believe it if I told you, haha; a few months back, Javed scraped his knee. Ever since then," he tapped his temple, "all that's been in my thoughts. Isn't that silly?"

"Was that the first time either of them have been hurt?"

Ah. Straight to the point now, huh? "Well, they get a little hurt when we're training, so it's not like-"

He stopped when a hand grabbed his own. He turned to look at Dimitri.

"That was the first time either have been hurt outside of training. When we couldn't expect it to happen."

...

"Well, yeah, but I'm still thinking about it too much," Claude argues.

"Can I ask what you're thinking?"

He turned back to Manuela. Right, right. "Well, when Javed scraped his knee I kinda just... ran up and healed him. I offered to teach them some healing," he hurried to add, "and now they can manage some small cuts! I'm just, ah... worried if it's enough."

There was a pause. Then Manuela went on, "Is there a reason you're worried about that? They _are_ just children; there's only so much you can prepare for."

Claude fought back the urge to swallow, or fidget. "I guess. It's just I was raised differently. By their age I could take care of myself fairly well."

Manuela tilted her head, slightly. "Really? How did your parents raise you?"

Here it was. This was murky territory, he knew. He remembers way back when, before the war, when he told Hilda about some of his childhood. She didn't exactly take to it well, but at least it let Claude know he has to phrase things a little carefully else they come out sounding worse than it was.

"They were hands off," he says, going with the same thing he told Dimitri. "I'd" _have to deal with people hurting me_ "get myself hurt all the time and they told me" _to deal with it myself_ "that it wasn't anything I couldn't fix up myself."

Another short pause, Manuela scrunching her brow. Then her face relaxes. "What kind of injuries would you get?" she finally asked.

Poison, at first. Reading some books and concocting some antidotes were easy enough to do, even if there were a few mess-ups at the beginning. But, to be fair, it wasn't lethal poison, at first. It'd just make him tired, nauseous, dizzy. He was an easy enough target already, small as he was, but his brothers knew that a small fight was more of a hassle to deal with than none at all. When he got older the poisonings would be more vicious, but by then he was already pretty good at apothecary to fight back against it better.

Then there was beatings. Well, he guessed beatings always happened. Ha, why did he think about poison first then? Oh well. But whenever he'd get jumped it was just a matter of finding a place to hide until he felt good enough to sneak his way home. Or somewhere else, if home was where it happened. If he was lucky, when he was sneaking and he found a rat or something and he managed to kill it, sometimes his Crest would activate. Really helped with the more intense jumps. Hm. He wondered if his Crest helped with poisoning back then too? He's suspected it does, but would he have noticed it when he was a kid though? Something to think about, he guesses.

...Where was he going with this?

"Ah sorry, what was the question? Dozed off a bit."

"It's no problem, dear. I asked you, what kind of injuries would you get?"

Ah, right, that. "You know, the usual kid stuff."

He felt Dimitri squeeze his hand. He forced down a jump; he'd almost forgotten he was there, quiet that he was.

"Can you be a little more specific?"

...ah, dammit. It's hard to think when Dimitri looked so worried. But Claude knew that that look would only get worse if he just flat out said _everything_. Part of the problem was how much he'd _already_ worried his husband; he didn't want to make it worse.

Claude shrugged. "I'd get into fights a lot as a kid. Get bruised up, cut up-" _broken up_ -" like I said, nothing I couldn't handle."

And that wasn't even fully a lie, really. There _was_ a point in his life where he thought if he showed that he was just as strong as everyone else then they'd leave him alone. That point was very short-lived, when it showed it just made things horribly worse. They didn't need to know that last detail though.

Manuela's brow shot up to her hairline. "Really? _You_ would get into fights? Such a far cry from the boy I knew at the academy!"

Claude threw out a smirk and a chuckle. "What can I say? I rectified my ways by the time I got into the academy."

"And your parents didn't help you with any of this?"

The smirk dropped. He sighed; he ought to clear things up some. "Look, they didn't leave _everything_ up to me to deal with! Of course they helped out _sometimes_ ," _when I was too young to remember, when I was too close to death_ "they just trusted that I could deal with most things." Which he could.

Manuela leaned in a little closer. "You sound like a very reliable child. I doubt they even needed to discipline you."

And Claude _actually_ laughed at that. Ha! "Oh no, I was still a little brat, I was just a hardy one. This one time, they-"

He shut up.

Dammit.

Dimitri leaned closer to him. "Claude, what did they do?" Dimitri looked _so_ concerned, and he sounded so... _accusatory_. That's not fair.

"Don't sound so down!" Claude wrapped his hand around the one holding it. "It's nothing that bad, I promise." Because dammit, Hilda overreacted. It _wasn't_ that bad. It wasn't a Tragedy, it wasn't anything to start a war over, it was just tough love. That was all. Claude smiled. "When I was a kid, my dad would tie me to a horse and have it drag me around some."

He regretted saying that immediately.

Silence. Not a peep from either Dimitri or Manuela. Dimitri looked so... shocked. His eye was so wide, and he couldn't seem to decide if he wanted his mouth open or shut.

Claude turned his full attention to Dimitri. "Look, don't look like that! It really wasn't that bad! The horse wasn't racing around the range or anything, it was just a little quick trot!"

"Claude..." Ahh, Dimitri still had that look on his face. Dammit, it looks _just_ like the one Hilda had, but-

"It wasn't that bad, really! I _know_ how it sounds like, but if you could've seen how I just kinda bounced around you'd be laughing right along with them-"

Dimitri shot up from his chair.

"They _laughed_ at you?!"

"Hey now."

A calm, stern voice. Claude turned his head to it-- it was Manuela, of course, looking patient as a saint.

"Let's take a moment to breathe, shall we boys? Cool our heads a little."

Claude... nodded. That sounded like a good idea. He turned back to face Manuela, Dimitri slowly sank back into his chair, and they just... waited for a bit.

Dimitri broke the silence first. "I was wrong to yell. I'm sorry."

Claude looked to his husband and sure enough, guilt was written all over his face. He sighed. "It's fine, Dimitri." He reached over and patted Dimitri's hand, hoping his message was clear.

Dimitri took a breath in, then out. 

"Is it, though?"

He looked Clauded in the eye. 

"What they did... you did not deserve that, Claude."

What? "Sure I did. Didn't you hear me earlier? I was a brat. I had it comin' a mile away."

Dimitri's eye snapped shut. He breathed in and out some shaky breaths. It... didn't look like he agreed with him on that.

"Claude, may I ask you a question?"

Ahh, his mind is so frazzled; it's hard to remember that there was two people in the room with him. He looked to Manuela. "Yeah, sure."

"Would you do that to Gwen and Javed?"

...

"Ah, do what?"

"Tie them to a horse if they misbehaved."

...That wasn't fair.

He's thought over that question _so many times now_. It's caused him so much grief for the past few months. He's circled and circled around it in so many different directions and always comes back to the same answer:

"No."

"Why not?"

Claude ran a hand through his hair. "They've never done anything to warrant it. I did."

"What would you do?"

He waved his hand in a circle. "You know, be unreasonably late to training, sneak out, be a general pest. That kind of thing."

"So if Gwen or Javed did those things, you would do it then?"

_Sigh. "No."_

"Why?"

He sighed again. Put his hand over his eyes and blinked hard. Ran his hand down his face. "Look, I was the kind of kid that needed that kind of tough love to learn. They aren't." There. That was a good answer, right? That was-

"So if Gwen and Javed were more like you, you would-"

" _SHUT UP!"_

Claude grabbed at his hair. " _Would you STOP asking me that?! No! I wouldn't do it to them! I would_ _NEVER_ _do it to them! No matter what they did, no matter what they were like, I would_ **_NEVER_ ** _hurt them! I wouldn't let them deal with people hurting them by themselves, I wouldn't let them curl up and wait for the pain to go away, I WOULDN'T DO ANY OF THAT! I_ **_WOULDN'T_** _! JUST SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"_

"Claude!"

Iron shackles on his wrists. He looked- no. Just Dimitri's hands, grabbing them. He was panting. The sides of his head hurt.

...

Oh... 

...

Uh...

...

"Hahaaa, well, wasn't that a moment! Sorry for the yelling, that wasn't very nice. Think that's my cue to leave."

"Claude-"

"It's okay, Claude," Manuela interrupts. "You were fine. Please, if you feel like coming back, my door is always open."

"Yeah, thanks. C'mon Dimitri, Marianne can't watch the kids forever."

"...I have some things I would like to speak to Manuela about. Please, go on ahead. I will catch up."

"Okay."

Claude left.

\---

The door shut behind Claude. 

Dimitri slumped into his chair, his head falling into his hands. By the Goddess, he never thought... 

"I had no idea..." he mutters to himself, anger and... what? Disappointment? Regret? Guilt? Maybe all of those emotions swirled within him. "How could his parents do such a thing...?"

If Claude did truly love his parents, then it was no wonder he was so conflicted now. It explains so much... of now, and before, how distrustful he had always been of others. His paranoia over their children's safety. His moments of panic he always tries to hide from him. How could he hope to have faith in those around him if even his own mother and father would not do something as small as protect him? How can he have faith in _himself_ to raise his children right when he himself was raised so wrong?

Dimitri was disgusted. 

"I know it may not look like it," Manuela's voice drives through Dimitri's thoughts, "but that outburst wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It was a result of years worth of buildup and repressed emotions; it's good that he let go of some of that in a safe place."

She says that, and it almost makes sense. But... Claude was so _angry._ Dimitri has never seen the like come across his beloved before, ever calm that he was. He doesn't think he's heard Claude even raise his voice since... gods, since _Gronder._ He may rant about the occasional noble being an annoyance, but... nothing was ever like _that_ , so pure and raw.

He jumped at the hand on his back. He raised his head from his hands to see Manuela in the seat Claude was in before.

"I don't know if you caught it, but when he said he wouldn't treat your children like his parents did him, he said he wouldn't hurt them," she says gently, rubbing circles on his back. "He may not have realized it, but he acknowledged that his parents hurt him. There's a part of him that sees that; that's better than it could be."

Dimitri sighed, leaning back into the chair. "There was so much he said... it is overwhelming. I would have had no idea..." He took a breath, clenched his jaw. "They _laughed_ at his pain... They _gave_ him pain, and they just..."

His hands balled into fists, the need to hold something curling his fingers, digging his nails into his palms. _That_ was so far beyond Dimitri's realm of understanding. It was not enough that Claude's parents would allow any pain to come to their child, but to find _humor_ in his pain, pain that _they_ caused...

What lesson was taught? What was the goal? What could dragging your child through the dirt and laughing at his struggles _possibly_ teach them? What was that other than cruelty?

"Dimitri," Manuela's voice calls. Dimitri refocuses his attention to her. "You need to know that this is something that needs _much_ patience. I doubt he's told us everything, and I doubt it gets any better than what we've heard today. I know it angers you to hear this; it makes _me_ angry, and I'm not Claude's spouse. But you have to keep a level head."

He shook his head. "But _how_? How am I supposed to stay calm when he speaks of such horrid things that's happened to him?"

Manuela's brow furrowed, a look of sympathy draping over her. "You don't have to be completely calm. Just... please don't shout. It'll just escalate you both. But," she took hold of his hand, trying to ease it out of its fist, "you were otherwise a very good presence today. I doubt Claude would have said half as much as he did if you weren't there to steady him. That's what he needs for this."

...He...nodded. He let his hand uncurl, felt the stinging of his fingers leaving the flesh of his palm. "I... cannot thank you enough, Miss Manuela. Please, let me know if there is anything I can do to repay your kindness."

She laughed; it was a nice sound, pleasant to the ears like Dimitri is certain fine wine is to the tongue. "Well, you can start by _not_ calling me Miss. Maybe after that you can let me see your children? They sound lovely."

Dimitri chuckled at that, a morsel of joy coming from this a feast to his mind, and rose from his seat. He's kept Claude waiting for long enough. "Yes, of course Manuela."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *writing for my bb*  
> Someone: *spills soda on it frying it and erasing 3k words of progress*  
> Me: :( *writes this to cope*
> 
> Poor Claude 😭

**Author's Note:**

> Claude: Sooo I know my parents loved me but they never really showed it so I dunno if my kids will know I love them if I show it what if they think I think they're weak or something haha am I a good parent haha
> 
> Dimitri: of course you are *smothers him in love and reassurance*
> 
> Lowkey think Claude's parents' whole "let him raise himself and never help him so he'll be strong" thing would kinda mess up Claude's view on parenthood if he ever became a parent. Their neglect probably wouldn't hit Claude until he himself became a parent and realized he wouldn't raise them like he was raised ;(


End file.
